


House of the Wolf

by p1nk_x3



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: 1x2, Angst, Boys' Love, Dirty Talk, Light Angst, M/M, Manga & Anime, Mild Smut, Yaoi, gundam wing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27013000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p1nk_x3/pseuds/p1nk_x3
Summary: "Your hands" -Heero growled then, his knuckles white with the intensity of his hold- "you'd do well to remove them, lest I saw them off."
Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	House of the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends, I've been reading Painter of the Night and this idea came into my head. Random little one-shot, I hope you enjoy. Might even turn it into an actual story ;p  
> ___

When Duo entered the great hall in a loose procession with the King and his lords, his cobalt eyes were alighted with wonder at the lavish decor. Garlands of every possible color of wisteria were wound heavily around the marble posts and hung cascading down from multiple points in the high ceiling. Countless candles, varying in size placed all along the walls upon candelabras and strategically in the dance pit where dancers in silken pastel robes were already performing, twirling their fans painted with various images. Gold plates stacked and overflowing with meats, cheeses and fruits and cups filled with wine placed before each seating pillow designated for the lords and their attendants who were already demurely waiting with golden pitchers in hand. 

He had stopped abruptly to take in the view, and he realized the procession had gone ahead without him and he hurried along after his master, unsure of where his place might be. Heero seated himself comfortably and looked up at him then, eyebrow raised in expectation. Duo nervously worried the strings of his outer robe, hesitant to presume his place was beside the King. Lord Quatre must have sensed his internal struggle for he lightly tugged him by the sleeve and gently guided him to the plush empty pillow on Heero’s right side. Smiling in reassurance, Quatre returned to his seat across the pit. 

Duo felt himself flush from his head down to his chest, from the nearness of Heero and his allowance to even join the night’s festivities so overwhelming to he, who had begun to resign himself to his status of a scullery boy. How he had earned the favor of his master he did not know but he was not so bold as to believe the King would not eventually tire of him. He risked a glance up at the countenance of his master and he flushed heatedly again. The King’s dark hair fell in wisps above his brow, his profile strong and handsome. He substituted his usual black and gray armor for a heavy, navy silk outer robe with gold jacquard embroidery and a cream undershirt that exposed the top of his tanned, muscular chest and Duo could only hope for continued luck to remain by his side. Lord Treize was seated on the right of Duo and he could hear him flirting casually with his attendant as she softly laughed whilst filling his goblet. 

As if jolted into reality, Duo realized he, too, should be catering to his master but he had not been given clarity of his duties for the night. So he picked up the heavy pitcher and offered it to the King. 

“Master?” He said quietly and Prussian eyes turned to him, softening slightly. “May I fill your cup?”

Heero hummed, held it out and turned his attention back to the performance. After a time, Duo settled back onto the pillow and gazed quietly around the room. The Lords, Trowa and Quatre were speaking to their attendants in hushed tones, the delicate hands of the women brushing theirs flirtatiously. Lord Wufei lounged, smoking his opium pipe, a glazed look veiling his eyes.

Duo couldn’t help but feel bereft. Much time had passed and aside from earlier, Master Heero had not turned to engage him once or even so much as look at him. He knew he should not have expected the same attention, even the attendants were of a higher class than he, but he had harbored a small bit of hope. He was afflicted, his feelings always swayed this way and that whenever in the presence of the handsome King. He didn’t know how to feel, was unsure of what the King even felt for him. Certainly, he frequented the master’s bed almost every night, but so did many others once upon a time, or even now. His chest constricted painfully. He did not wish to think of his master entertaining others in his bed. He knew he would attend Lord Treize’s debaucherous parties, the kitchen maids were loose lipped regarding the elegant Lord’s escapades. But with Duo keeping the master occupied almost nightly, he wondered if he had stopped going altogether. He dared not overstep and ask but he couldn’t help but hold onto the idea that the master had perhaps found his company more pleasurable. 

“Will you not eat?” Lord Treize’s voice, slightly slurred, interrupted his musings. 

Duo blushed quickly, “I-I will eat momentarily, my Lord.” 

Treize studied him then, his head titled to the side. “I do not believe we’ve spoken much since you’ve arrived. What are your duties?”

Duo swallowed, his face heated, no Lord aside from Quatre has ever deigned to inquire of him and he measured his words carefully.

“I assist the kitchen maids, my Lord. I run errands and am at the call of His Highness whenever he has need of me.” 

Treize slowly nodded in understanding, his ice eyes cloudy as he swirled the wine in his cup lazily. “I see...and these 'needs' you speak of...I assume you are the reason he has been so...absent as of late?”

Duo glanced nervously at his master, but he seemed to not have been paying any mind to their conversation or to have even heard. One of the women attendants was refilling his plate with meats and Heero’s attention was on her. He felt a pang of loneliness and he realized then he was on his own. 

“You needn’t answer if you are uncomfortable,” the man said as he casually placed one arm slightly behind him. Duo tried to stamp down the feeling of growing unease as the gentleman moved closer. 

“I wonder though...” -Treize whispered, softly, smiling indulgently as he leaned closer to him, his breath ghosting across the servant's neck- “if I may have a taste of who has so wholly captured the attention of our stoic King?”

Duo clenched his fists, his soft cotton robes bunching under his hands. His breath was shaky as he felt Lord Treize’s fingers inch their way up his thigh. He swallowed frantically and jerked his head to the left, but His Excellency hardly took notice of what was happening to him, now so engrossed was he in conversation with his main advisor. Lord Quatre eyed him curiously from across the dance pit and Duo pleaded with his eyes, tears pricking the corners. He was but a lowly servant, what power did he have over his own person? In the midst of nobles, no less? 

The room was thick with smoke from pipes, the opium inducing a haze and he found he could not think clearly. His body felt hot and he was suddenly ill. He wanted to cling to his master, his heart beat wildly in his chest, but he knew an offense to a Lord would not be looked upon well. 

‘What can I do?’ his thoughts anxiously ran through his mind as warm fingers neared closer and closer to his groin. ‘Master- please, please help. I know not what to do,’ his mind panicked as his eyes slammed shut and he steeled himself against the unwanted advance.

He would bear it, he must, he had to-

“You go too far, Treize,” the rich baritone of His Excellency broke through his tumultuous thoughts and the air in the room seemed to plummet. Duo’s eyes flung open to be greeted by the thin blade of a dagger, the tip poised against Lord Treize’s Adam’s apple. The dancing and music had come to a halt then and the hall fell silent. No one dared move. Lord Trowa’s eyes narrowed and even Lord Wufei’s pipe suspended in mid-air as he paused to view the scene with mild interest. The King’s dagger had slipped out of his sleeve faster than even the guards could react and they stood ready with their spears, unsure of how to proceed. 

“Ohhh?” Lord Treize drawled, his sharp eyes glimmered with amusement regardless of the deadly point pressed to his neck. His insistent fingers stilled on Duo’s thigh. “So the fearsome wolf _will_ bare its fangs when the little pup is threatened.” 

Trembling and with quivering hands Duo sat there, caged between the two men. A hawk to his right and the Alpha wolf to the left. He felt the force of malice rising steadily in Heero, and tension wrought throughout his body. Fear, a heavy weight in his chest.

Duo’s brows knit together, and he whimpered pitifully, his form shaking still, so heavy was the murderous intent of the man next to him. 

“Your hands” -Heero growled then, his knuckles white with the intensity of his hold- “you’d do well to remove them, lest I saw them off.” 

Lord Treize chuckled softly, though humor was absent from his tone. He moved back slightly, dragging his fingers mockingly across Duo’s clothed leg. Heero’s eyes, now black with violence, followed them, his jaw tense, the muscles in his forearms taut.

Treize slowly leaned back and held out his cup to his attendant, who nervously picked up the pitcher to refill it. “’Tis a harmless perusal, Your Highness,” his voice was warm, placating. “However, my apologies, I was merely satisfying a curiosity.” 

Heero deftly flipped the blade and it was swiftly hidden again in the heavy folds of his silk sleeve. His eyes were closed as he struggled to calm his seething temper. Only Duo’s timid presence soothed the possessiveness that clawed to the surface, ready to rip to shreds the threat to what belonged to him.

“It is only because of our history, have I spared you. But touch him again” -he said, voice low and jagged- “and it will be your last offense.”

Treize bowed his head, slightly, in acquiesce. “You have my word.”

Quatre slowly sank back onto the cushions in relief, having stood up half-way should he needed to intervene. Trowa turned his attention back to his attendant and Wufei let out a puff of smoke from his long pipe. The tension in the air dissipated then and Heero waved his fingers, signaling for the festivities to continue. Duo wished for nothing more than to crawl into his room and remain there for the rest of the night. He hadn’t lifted his eyes off the floor as he struggled to process what happened. The fear he felt from his master’s ire, his loathing of being touched by anyone but Heero, the anxiety of almost being taken advantage of had wound him so tight he couldn’t relax, and he felt himself tip over, his energy depleted. The King’s strong hands steadied his shoulders and he allowed himself to rest against him.

“Do you wish to retire?” Heero inquired softly, as he held him close, his thumbs rubbed soothing circles around his shoulders. Duo turned his head slightly and lifted his eyes up to meet the concerned expression of his master. He did not wish to take Heero from the party, but he so desperately needed to lay down.  


He wet his lips, now dry from fatigue. “If-if it is not too much trouble, Master. I will take leave for my room.” 

"Nonsense," Heero quipped evenly. "I will take you there. I see now it was unwise to leave you so...open to scrutiny." 

Duo nodded; his eyes downcast, too weary to protest. “As you wish it, master.” He felt Heero raise him up steadily, his hands still firmly clasping his shoulders. They made no show of bidding the other attendees farewell. Heero arrived and departed when he pleased. Duo felt Heero’s warm hand slide down his arm to entwine with his own and he once again felt his heart clench in his chest. The sensation not as painful yet why did he still feel so lonely? They walked slowly through the dim, candle-lit marble halls and Duo found he could not help but steal glances at Heero. His heart ached and he could not figure out why. Should he not be relieved the King was not angry at him for having invited the attention of another man? Should he not feel warmth from the hand that clutched his own? The hand that he believed was once so unreachable. 

“You are troubled,” Heero paused and looked down, his dark brows pinched. “What is the matter? Did Treize-? I will rip his fucking tongue out.”

Duo was unable to meet his master’s eyes, the ache in him swelled to an overwhelming degree. “No…your Highness,” he answered quietly, his voice pained. Heero tugged him close then. 

“Why do you not look at me?” the voice was patient but firm. “I cannot help you, if you do not tell me what ails you.”

Duo clenched his eyes shut, willing the tears to be kept at bay. Heero would encourage him time and again to speak up but it was never the right moment. Could he do it now? Could he truly express how he felt about the master he once feared but have come to need so desperately? What right did he have to ask for anything? 

Heero shook him then, a small jolt in the middle of the hallway as Duo whispered finally, “Why…why does it matter if I had been touched?”

Heero’s eyes widened slightly at the question and accusatory tone that accompanied it. “What do you mean? You belong to me.” 

Duo whipped his head up to look at Heero then, his long braid swung behind him. Eyes welled with tears. “Do I, Master? Can you say that, truly? When the entire night you behaved as if I wasn’t even there?”

Heero’s hands faltered slightly from Duo’s shoulders as he realized the cause of his consort’s sudden melancholy. 

“Ah, forgive me, little one. It is really the only time I may speak casually with my advisors. I did not mean to ignore you.” Duo understood yet at the same time could not dispel the hurt so quickly. Heero saw it would require more than an excuse to soothe his feelings.

“What is it you wish for then? How may I remedy this?” 

Duo felt a flare of indignation as he realized the master was teasing him and he pulled away, as a petulant child would. 

“You need not bother.” He could not help but feel foolish at his admission. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. A low chuckle sounded, and Duo felt himself being ushered into the darkened corner of the hallway. His awareness stolen and he, despite himself, breathed in the scent of his master. 

Heero reached up to caress the softness of his cheek, the contour of his jaw and Duo could only bring his hand to rest against the heavy silk of the King’s coat. His senses were heady with the warmth of the taller man and his slow touches. The feeling of the cold marble against his back and the hard body of his King pressed up against him, stealing every coherent thought. His breath quickened as Heero’s hand gradually dipped lower to cup his ass. 

“M-Master…there are guards,” Duo fumbled out, panic rising at potentially being seen. 

“Then you’d best keep quiet,” as Heero’s mouth descended on his own and captured his lips in a heated kiss. Duo tasted wine, need and want as his master nipped his mouth, coaxing his tongue out to play. Heero pushed a hand underneath Duo’s shirt, felt the flushed skin, flicked his nipple and rolled it between his fingers. Pressed further against the wall, Duo ground his now hardened length against Heero’s leg. Their kiss turned sloppier, more desperate as Duo whimpered, aching to be touched. 

“Look at you,” Heero breathed as he tore his mouth away and took in Duo’s glazed eyes, his wet mouth, that undulating body. “Rubbing against me like a bitch in heat.” 

“Master…master, _please_ …”

Heero gripped Duo’s sharp waist, almost painfully. “Please, what, little one,” as he dragged his tongue languidly up Duo’s neck tasting the sheen of sweat there. Reveling in it, in his pet coming undone. 

Duo clutched Heero’s arms. “ _Touch_ me, master…I have…I have waited so long…” his voice trailed off as he moaned softly when Heero spat in his palm and slipped it in his pants to grip him there. Slowly, torturously he rubbed the shaft, a rough thumb swiped across the leaking head. 

Duo leaned his head back against the wall, losing himself to the sensation of his master’s hand working him, one hand grasped his length, the other ran up his chest, a tongue traced his ear. He could only imagine what he must look like, a panting, begging, unkempt mess. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed this, craved his master’s touch. 

“You are so good for me,” Heero nipped at his ear, breathy and deep, “such a good _boy_ for his master…” Duo’s hand snaked to Heero’s wrist, urging him to go faster but Heero maintained that steady pace, not quite bringing him there. He panted louder now, frustration and desire intertwining into one. Heero swiftly turned him around, Duo’s face now pressed against the wall and his own, painfully hard length rubbing against the curve of Duo’s ass. 

“Please, master…I need it…” the words tumbled out of him, incoherent babbles as Heero gripped him, the calloused hand giving him the friction he needed to get there. If only master would let him… _get_ there…

“Such a good little slut,” Heero whispered harshly then, stroking him harder, faster. “Anyone can walk by…can see you spreading it for me.”

Duo’s cries were muffled by his hand. “Yes, yes…only for you.” He loved it when master owned his body. He felt it nearing, he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Come then, pet. Come all over your master’s hand,” Heero licked his ear again and humped against him as he stroked him to completion. Duo released then with a soft, strangled cry. His body jerked back towards Heero, eyes shut from the pleasure and panting. Duo slumped against the wall, struggled to even his breath as he comes down from his high. He felt Heero also breathing heavily behind him. 

“What of you, master?” He could still feel Heero’s stiff member against his back. 

Heero pressed a kiss to his damp neck. “Tonight, was for you. Come now, let us clean you up.” 

Once in Heero’s chambers, Duo crawled into his master’s bed and was tenderly wiped down with a moistened cloth. The smaller man’s body pliant from their activities and sleepiness. Heero moved Duo’s long hair from under him, tucked the covers around him and took the hand he was sleepily offered. 

“Please stay…” Duo whispered; his eyes fluttered to stay awake. 

“Sleep, little one, I am right here.” Heero watched as Duo drifted off and once again, he felt the unfamiliar, growing ache whenever he looked at him. He was aware of the gossip, the confused stares and whispers at someone of his status, cavorting with a servant boy. He did not know how sustainable this was, how long it would last but he could not let it go yet. What did it matter? The opinions of those who knew so little. He ran his fingers lightly over Duo’s bangs and trailed them down his face to his lips.

In moments like these he found that he did not mind, this ache that refused to temper.


End file.
